


to start a flame in the heart of the night

by Ingi



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anticipation, Asexual Kíli (Tolkien), Clothed Sex, Consent Issues, Demisexual Fíli (Tolkien), Elves Made Them Do It, FiKi Week 2018, Frottage, Light BDSM, M/M, Mirkwood, Other: See Story Notes, Power Play, Quoiromantic Kíli (Tolkien), Sex-Positive Asexuality, Soft Dom Kíli (Tolkien), Sub Fíli (Tolkien)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/pseuds/Ingi
Summary: It was likely that Thranduil was offering them a way out of Mirkwood that he knew they could never take on purpose, for reasons of his own that probably involved him being a shifty, evil bastard. He wasn’t expecting them to take it.But Kíli did always take pleasure in defying expectation.





	to start a flame in the heart of the night

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Monday's prompt, " ~~Beorn's House or~~ **Mirkwood** "!  
> (Am I really starting off the week with porn? Yes. Yes I am.)  
> Keep in mind that while everything in this work is consensual, it is not necessarily _enthusiastic consent_ , and the background situation might make it a little skeevy anyway. So careful here, folks! This might be crossing what some people think of as the Dubcon line.  
> Also, there's a few lines of Khuzdul taken from The Dwarrow Scholar. You can hover over them for the translation!
> 
> That said, the title comes from "Heartbeat", by The Fray. Because The Fray is awesome, and about 50% of my FiKi music is from them.

When Kíli stared Thranduil down and volunteered Fíli and him, he hadn’t been giving in.

Anyone who knew him at all could’ve seen that what was in his eyes was not sacrifice, or resignation, partly because those words couldn’t ever apply to him and partly because he was very clearly scheming. The Company was horrified, but they were also very familiar with that look by then, so they didn’t try to interfere as much as they would’ve otherwise.

But of course, Thranduil couldn’t recognize when a dwarf was manipulating him _right_ _back_.

Kíli didn’t buy his convoluted excuse of harnessing sexual energy to help the elven kingdom. Not when it seemed to have a very specific set of conditions that allowed dwarves and hobbits to be considered good candidates. Not when in the Company there was not a single individual who would lay with another member willingly and easily, not yet.

It was likely that Thranduil was offering them a way out of Mirkwood that he knew they could never take on purpose, for reasons of his own that probably involved him being a shifty, evil bastard. He wasn’t _expecting_ them to take it.

But Kíli did always take pleasure in defying expectation.

He stood at the bottom of the bed and stared. His brother was kneeling on the mattress, hands by his legs and gripping the furs, entire body coiled tight in a way that Kíli would’ve recognized as focus, on himself, but that on Fíli indicated only discomfort and stress.

That wouldn’t do.

He closed the distance between them, cautiously kneeling before Fíli, close enough that their knees were almost touching.

“Kíli-” his brother started, sounding pained.

Kíli leaned forward, making sure to move only his upper body towards Fíli, and pressed his left check against his brother’s right one, eyes closed. He wanted to kiss him, but he could not, _would not_ , because he wanted that kiss just because he was supposed to, it was how things were done and he _wanted to want_ , but he had never quite seen the attractive in romantic kisses and Fíli was pretending not to shake and he was _his brother_ , and he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Are you afraid?” he heard himself asking, and turned his face so he could hide it in his brother’s neck.

“I thought you had a plan,” was all Fíli said, teeth gritted. It was an answer in itself.

“Ah, right! That was quite foolish of you, wasn’t it?” Kíli replied, trying to sound cheery, and it must have worked, because Fíli relaxed in increments before him. “I mean- you _know me_.”

“So you have a plan, but not necessarily a good one,” Fíli deduced, softening for a moment, but then the tension returned and he leaned almost imperceptibly into Kíli’s upper body. “Kíli,” he muttered, quiet, and Kíli could hear his fear as clear as if it’d been spoken out loud, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t,” Kíli said, as confident as he felt, and put his hands on top of Fíli’s, blindly patting the bed to find them without looking. “You said you’d stay still. Be good, would you, Fee?”

“That’s my line,” Fíli huffed, and it was so familiar that Kíli laughed under his breath and pressed a kiss under the line of his brother’s jaw, which he could reach with barely any movement at all.

And then he knew what he had to do, and he dragged his lips to Fíli’s jaw proper, and from there to the spot under his ear, and then to the spot behind, and then back to his jaw. By then, Fíli’s chest was heaving against his, and Kíli could feel his own pulse starting to rise slightly, as if curious, and Kíli didn’t know whether it was a response to Fíli or to the situation, but he didn’t think it mattered either way.

He followed the line of his brother’s jaw with his lips, pushing back enough that he could face him and kiss the corner of his mouth, something he had done before, but not with _intent_. Not like this. And, as Kíli would tell all of those who believed the rumors of he and his brother if he thought they’d bother listening, intent was _everything_.

Fíli’s lips parted, only enough for a hot breath to caress Kíli’s own, and Kíli leaned back, just so he could find the right angle, and leaned back in before either of them could stop him.

Their mouths met, and it was nothing like Kíli had thought it’d be.

Fíli made a noise between want and despair, which Kíli knew had been involuntary, and he was warm and _good_ against Kíli, and it was strangely wet and the movements didn’t make any sense, and Kíli would’ve quickly gotten bored had he been with anyone else, but it was _Fíli_. Fíli, so close to him, so clearly wanting — it made Kíli want him right back.

He took control of the kiss, which had been momentarily led by an overwhelmed Fíli, forcing his brother to follow his pace, to let Kíli take the time to explore his mouth, to take Kíli’s light teasing and do nothing about it.

Until Fíli’s shaking became too violent even in its restrained form, and Kíli pulled away and kissed his brother between his brows, gently, before letting him go.

And immediately realized that he had moved even closer to Fíli while they kissed, to the point his knees were bracketing Fíli’s and he was nearly sitting on top of his brother. But he didn’t move away, only shifted his hands to rest on Fíli’s legs, palms resting squarely midway between Fíli’s knee and hip.

Kíli was slightly tense now, too, but in his case it was _definitely_ anticipation.

He looked at his brother’s face and was startled to find tears there.

“Fee?” he said, sounding more uncertain than he’d meant to, but he couldn’t help it. The beginnings of fear stirred in his chest. “Fíli?”

Fíli was just- _staring_ at him, wide-eyed and breathing heavily, but he was clearly still in control of himself, and there was awareness in the way his gaze touched Kíli. There were other things, too, but Kíli couldn’t read them, and _that_ was a problem, because Kíli could always read his brother, was always supposed to.

He hoisted himself onto Fíli’s lap, giving up the pretense of personal space that was probably startling them both more than helping, and used his higher position to tilt his brother’s chin up and examine his expression anxiously, cupping his face in his hands with less gentleness than he had intended.

“Fíli, what-”

His brother’s expression broke, all of the sudden. Fíli took in a shuddering breath and hissed a curse, shifting lightly under Kíli’s weight without displacing him, his hands never releasing the furs on the bed.

“I can’t-” Fíli started, and trailed off when Kíli wiped his tears off with his thumbs. He closed his eyes, tilting his head down just enough for Kíli to press their foreheads together. “You don’t want this,” he said after a beat, tiredly.

Kíli understood, then, and told himself he should’ve imagined it. _You don’t want this_ , that was Fíli’s biggest holdback. _I want this too much_.

“I don’t _not_ want it,” Kíli said, cautiously, and shrugged, even though Fíli couldn’t see. “And I’m having fun, apart from the whole upsetting you thing — y’know I hate doing that. I don’t- I want to _try_.”

“I’ll be good,” Fíli replied, quiet, voice trembling a little with what Kíli wasn’t sure was entirely fear anymore. It felt like surrender, in a way that agreeing to it on the first place hadn’t. “I won’t- I won’t touch you, Kee. I-”

“You’ll touch me if I want you to,” Kíli said, and was inordinately pleased by Fíli’s slow sigh, his body loosening under his. “Now stay still,” he chided, and kissed Fíli again, tentative and curious. “You’re supposed to be good at following instructions, Fee. Failing is _my_ job.”

Fíli snorted, and his eyes were open when Kíli pulled away. They were still wet, but now Kíli knew it for what it was.

“I- I’ll be quiet,” he said, swallowing, after a moment of watching Kíli. “If-”

“Don’t,” Kíli asked, sliding from his brother’s lap back to the bed, but staying so close that his eyes had to take a moment to focus to look at Fíli. “I can’t- I need you here. Just don’t move. It’s your own stupid rule anyway.”

“ _You_ made it.”

“Because _you_ wanted it,” Kíli reminded him, distractedly, as he unbuttoned his brother’s shirt.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done so, but again, _intent_.

Fíli let him pull the shirt off and throw it over the bed, waited quiet and still as Kíli’s palm covered his heart, and then moved to the middle of his chest and down, until it was resting half on his lower stomach and half over his pants.

“You’re my One,” Fíli said, calmly, as if Kíli couldn’t distinguish his fake calm like a piece of wood from a silver coin. He was watching Kíli’s hand, not his face, but it became difficult when Kíli began kissing his chest, his collarbone, the lines of his shoulders. “I’ve wanted you since before I knew what want was. And you- Kíli- don’t you understand-”

“So I’m supposed to be _scared_?” Kíli huffed, and licked a bruise into Fíli’s neck that made him shudder. “Fuck you. I don’t- maybe I don’t know what having a One is supposed to feel like, but you- you’re-” he grimaced, irritated at himself. “I wouldn’t be doing this if it didn’t mean anything. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.”

“I know,” Fíli said, low. “I wouldn’t, either. I don’t think I _can_.”

He was getting too close to self-depricating, to afraid again, so Kíli tugged off his own shirt and started unlacing Fíli’s pants. His fingers brushed against unexpected hardness, and Fíli froze, staring at Kíli like he was expecting him to run.

“Huh,” Kíli breathed, and hesitated for a moment before unlacing the pants the whole way through. His fingertips pressed against the hardness briefly and then retreated. “Stand and take these off, and then come back here.”

“Kíli,” Fíli said, something a bit shaky and desperate in his eyes, so Kíli scratched one of his nipples gently with a nail to make him sigh and kissed him, still amazed at how strange but _right_ it was.

Fíli accepted the kiss for as long as Kíli let him, and then slowly moved to stand and slid off his pants with shaking hands. There was pride in the way he held himself, still, but nothing of the usual cockiness, and he was standing there and waiting for Kíli to turn him away because _clearly_ Kíli hadn’t done his job right, hadn’t made him understand that there was nothing in him that Kíli would not want.

So Kíli grinned and stretched out his hands in welcome, and Fíli smiled uncertainly and made his way back to the bed.

Kíli pushed at his chest, making him lie on his back, and shifted to straddle him so he could hover over his brother’s body. He followed the trail of hair down Fíli’s stomach with a hand, pressed his hipbone to the bed with the other. It was strange, because he knew Fíli’s body like he knew his own, but as he explored it curiously he realized that he’d never known it quite like this.

Which was _unacceptable_.

Fíli was less tense under him than he’d been, but he was still lightly shaking- and staring, fists clenching the furs, at Kíli’s face, his chest, his stomach. All of him was in the verge of _something_ , and Kíli pondered this and deduced that Fíli wanted to touch him, but of course he wouldn’t ever ask, he was holding himself back against the urge to do so — not even to touch, but to _ask_ for it.

“You can touch me,” Kíli said, and watched as Fíli winced and recoiled. It was different if Kíli took control of it, but not too different. Or perhaps Fíli was just startled at how they knew each other, even in this. “Just touch, though,” he added, hoping the suggestion would sit better with his brother. “And move only your hands.”

“Don’t do this for me,” Fíli replied after a moment, as if it pained him to do so. “That’s- that’s the _opposite_ of what I want.”

Kíli’d had enough of that, quite frankly.

“Fee, if I don’t want it, you’ll _know_ ,” he said, rolling his eyes, and headbutted him just to make him smile. “Touch me.”

Fíli finally let the poor furs go and placed his hands on Kíli’s sides, over his ribs, slow and gentle like he rarely was- especially with Kíli, because he knew his strength better than anyone else. Kíli’s body unvoluntarily seeked the touch, trusting, and Kíli let out a pleased sigh without quite meaning to.

That had the effect of calming Fíli down, reminding him of just who they were and how they worked, and when Kíli drew him into a kiss he was surprisingly pliant, but letting himself really enjoy it for what Kíli suspected was the first time.

And Kíli forgot himself and lowered his body to Fíli’s until they were pressed together nearly head to toe, and Fíli stilled and made a noise like he’d been shot, so Kíli pulled away and when some awareness of his own body returned, he realized he was hard.

And he hadn’t noticed because the sizzling, blurry heat distracting him was desire.

He blinked, startled, and met Fíli’s wide, almost ferverish eyes.

“Kíli,” Fíli said, hoarse. It sounded like a plea. “You _want_ -”

“Yes,” Kíli replied, hoping he wasn’t showing too much of his own surprise. A part of him already knew it would be like this, but it hadn’t bothered communicating with the rest of him. Typical. “Will you look at _that_ ,” he laughed, and Fíli smirked darkly.

“I’m trying,” he said, which only made Kíli laugh harder.

The hands on Kíli’s sides curled tighter around his ribs, but didn’t move lower. It was just as well — Kíli’d rather not be distracted this one time.

He pressed his hips back into Fíli’s, gaping at what it awoke in his blood. He would already be bored were he with anyone else, despite the sensations coursing through his body, but this was _Fíli_.

Fíli, who was cursing under his breath and holding onto Kíli’s ribs like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. His hips kept twitching as Kíli rubbed himself against him, and Kíli wanted to still them with his own hands only for the fun of it, but he didn’t want his brother to get the wrong idea, so he curled his hands firmly around Fíli’s shoulders instead and sighed into his mouth.

“Kíli,” Fíli mumbled, and by now it definitely sounded like begging, which Kíli could appreciate.

He wanted to come, and he wanted to reward Fíli for finally coming close to asking for what _he_ wanted, so he increased the force behind his thrusts, the speed of it, and let his head rest on his brother’s shoulder.

“Alright?” he hummed, panting against Fíli’s neck.

Fíli laughed quietly between moans, and digged his fingers between Kíli’s ribs.

“Yes. You-”

But Kíli hushed him impatiently and kissed him again, and he came with his brother’s tongue in his mouth, and soon after his brother came, too — possibly at the unholy sound Kíli had made before his own climax.

“I’m not going to break, stupid,” Kíli mumbled, when it became obvious that Fíli was not going to consider their little power game over without a handwritten invitation. He curled tighter around his brother despite the unfortunate sticky situation in his pants, which he’d never bothered taking off, something he was deeply regretting at the moment. “’m fine, see? _We’re_ fine.”

Fíli let go of his sides, and for a beat he avoided touching Kíli at all, but then his grip was back and familiarly confident around Kíli’s body, handling it easily to pull it tighter against Fíli’s own, seeking more contact in that demanding way that he only ever showed when they were alone. He pressed his lips against Kíli’s temple, hard.

“D’you think that counted?” he said, sounding tired. “For king Thranduil.”

“Couldn’t care less,” Kíli huffed. He looked for one of Fíli’s hands and squeezed it hard enough to hurt. “It’s never been about that.”

Fíli would remember, then, _had to_ , that when others said Kíli did whatever he wanted, they had no idea of how right they were. That musty old elf might’ve been a king, but he wasn’t _Kíli’s_ , and he couldn’t just try to manipulate Kíli’s family into laying with each other for his own disturbing purposes and expect Kíli to take it.

There were always ways, but Kíli had chosen this one. Fíli had to see it, even through his constant, baseless worry.

And Fíli _did_ see, or allowed himself to believe it, because he smiled against Kíli’s skin and said,

“So what you’re saying is, you just used king Thranduil’s threats as an excuse to lay with me, without ever intending to actually _fix_ the situation?”

“’m sorry, have you ever seen me fix _anything_?” Kíli replied, grinning. “I thought I was the one who _broke_ things.”

“You do,” Fíli said, and Kíli could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Just not this one thing,” he added, softer.

Kíli smiled to himself.

“This hasn’t gone how I planned it, anyway,” he said, petulant, and waited for the inevitable question.

“You really _did_ have a plan?” Fíli replied, playing right into his hands and knowing so. “Mahal guard us. What was it?”

“I rode you,” Kíli said, simply, and heard with inmense satisfaction how Fíli choked on his breath for a long moment. “But maybe next time, huh?”

“Yes,” his brother said, quiet and surprised, but not hesitant at all as far as Kíli could tell. “Maybe next time.” And before Kíli could say anything, he pushed Kíli off him so he could look at his face and added, a smile dancing in his lips, “ _Izgil abnâmul_.”

Kíli burst into laughter, because _of course_ his brother would put it like that, and let Fíli kiss the laughter off his mouth.

“There’s no moon in Mirkwood, Fee, there are too many fucking trees.”

Fíli sighed, long-suffering, and flicked Kíli’s forehead.

“Why are you like this?” he complained, the undercurrent of fondness in his voice making Kíli grin like an idiot.

“ _Maralmi-zu_ ,” Kíli said, half-instinctive and half entirely on purpose.

“I know.”

But Kíli didn’t think that he _did_ , not really, not when not even he himself was entirely sure of just how much he meant it.

He stilled and stared at his brother, and Fíli stared back with amusement in his eyes, and he wasn’t really doing anything and he was silent, but the longer Kíli looked at him, the stronger a _huge_ , complex feeling rose in his chest. It was one Kíli recognized, because it hadn’t ever changed, but this time Kíli took it and turned it around in his hands, curious but without judgement, and he once more knew that kingdoms would burn for that feeling.

That _he_ could burn them to the ground.

And if that was not the love Fíli was talking about, the one everyone always talked about, then Kíli wouldn’t ever know what it was, because there could be nothing further past what was was living in his chest. If he could feel it at all — he felt it for Fíli.

“I would build you a kingdom,” he told his brother, and he knew that Fíli could hear the other, unspoken promise under the words. And then, pressing his fingers against his brother’s heart, “ _Maralmi-zu_.”

And he had said those words before, many times, but- not with this _intent_.

Fíli rested his forehead against Kíli’s and smiled, bright and calm, entirely himself once again.

“ _Maralmi-zu_ ,” he said.

And Kíli grinned, and knew that he understood.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, this fic had more explicit sex, more plot, and even more emotions. But then I made the mistake of starting to write it from when Kíli is standing in front of the bed, because the first scenes wouldn’t come out yet, and by when I had finished everything else, I was too lazy to actually write the goddarned first scenes. Especially because everything seemed to mostly make sense even without them.  
> So… whoops? I’m the one most disappointed here, trust me.
> 
> Also, if you guys were wondering, the "the moon is beautiful" line is a reference on how Japanese people allegedly say that instead of saying "I love you" directly. (Why is it _here_ , tho? ...Yeah, you got me.)
> 
> Now go check out the [lovely tumblr](http://gatheringfiki.tumblr.com/tagged/fikiweek2018) organizing these events, and the other fanworks for Fiki Week 2018!


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